


Baby there ain't no sword in our lake (just a funeral wake)

by ThatOnePlatypus



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 03:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOnePlatypus/pseuds/ThatOnePlatypus
Summary: “That’s terrible,” Madara offers honestly enough, “But I don’t see what I have to do with it, Mito.”“That’s simple,” she replies, and there is that scary smile again. “I want you to search for Tobirama.”“What? Me?” Madara exclaims, stunned.(A.k.a Gods AU with side-dish of MadaTobi)





	Baby there ain't no sword in our lake (just a funeral wake)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this is the first fanfic I actually publish on Ao3. It figures it's a Naruto OS.  
> I hope you all enjoy it!

Madara knows, the moment Mito ambushes him in his own house, with tea and that terrifying milder-than-milk smile, that he's screwed. He doesn't know how, doesn't know why, but he knows that when Mito smiles like that it means she's angry. Really, truly,  _pissed_.

No one with a working brain wants to stay anywhere near that, and Madara isn't the god of stupidity – despite what Izuna might say, the brat. All of his survival instincts have gone haywire, blaring alarms into his head, shouting at him to  _get the hell out of here, run for the hills and hide!_

Unfortunately, as tempting as it is, Mito's eyes are boring holes into him,  _daring_  him to even try to escape. So he sits down at the table with her, accepts the tea, and keeps his mouth shut, hoping that her wrath might avoid him. He doesn't know what he  _did_  to deserve that, but he's already very sorry.

"Good day, isn't it?" Mito says, utterly pleasantly, looking at the window.

"Right," Madara replies, trying not to show that he's terrified. "Very nice. Sunny."

Mito's smile twitches, and Madara valiantly resist the urge to throw himself out of the window. Sure, from there it would be a very long drop to the mortal realm, and the landing might hurt a bit, but at this point he's sure it'd be the lesser evil.

She's not speaking. Madara can feel a bead of sweat rolling on his back. Why isn't Mito speaking.

"How's Hashirama?" He blurts out, desperate to break the tension. Hashirama is good, it's a safe topic, Mito always likes to complain fondly of her husband to his friends-

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Mito says, and Madara really wants to freeze at her tone.

_Damn it Hashirama_ , he curses his friend in his head. Apparently, whatever is wrong it's his fault. Obviously. He's not sure why he expected otherwise.

The next time he sees his best friend, he's going to strangle him.

"Heard what?" He asks instead, and pretends he's not evaluating his chances to make a run for it. Act natural, Madara, she can probably smell fear. "I've been pretty busy lately, with that stupid blizzard that wouldn't stop."

"Ah yes, but it's resolved now, isn't it?" Mito asks, finally letting down on the scary intensity to get a bit more like the woman he likes to gossip with on lazy days. "Good job on that, by the way. The weather  _is_  quite fantastic now."

"Thank you," Madara says, because he  _is_  quite happy with it. He's the god of heat and sunny days, after all.

"Unfortunately, that means you probably missed the latest trouble," Mito goes on, because they clearly can't have good things any more. "Tobirama has gone missing."

"Has he?" Madara says, dubious.

It's a legitimate question. He might not really know, or care about Hashirama's brother, or even be the most sociable god there is, but even he knows that Tobirama doesn't really like to get out of his domain. The god of water likes his quiet, and prefers to stay deep in his ocean, taking care of everything that falls under his authority. Sometimes, mostly on ceremonial days he'll resurface and spend some time with the other gods and goddesses, and other times he'll get dragged out by his family or friends. But it's not  _odd_  for him not to be there.

So, really, Madara feels he can be excused for doubting that he's  _missing_  and not simply  _hiding_  from Hashirama and Mito. They can be overbearing.

"Yes," Mito says, pursing her lips. "We thought he'd just taken a vacation, or traveled, or gone deeper than usual. He does that sometimes, after all. But then we asked around. Apparently, Tobirama hasn't been in his domains for weeks now." She shakes her head. "I told Hashirama to wait for the beginning of summer, since Tobirama  _always_  comes for dinner then. But he didn't show. As you can guess, Hashirama is quite distraught."

_That_ , Madara thinks dryly,  _is probably an understatement_.

"Let me guess," he says, "He's moping."

"And wailing," Mito replies, dry as dust. "You are lucky you live on the far side. There have been a lot of complaints about the noise. Not to mention the state of the eternal garden."

Madara winces sympathetically. When Hashirama gets upset, most plants around tend to either wilt and die, or start growing into vegetal death-traps. There is no in-between.

"Have you asked Tsume for help?" He asks. If anyone can help track down a wayward god, it's the goddess of the hunt.

"I have," Mito says grimly. "She hasn't found a trace yet, not in our realm, and not in the mortal realm either." She adds, long-suffering. "The mortal realm is starting to suffer from this. Apparently, all the crops are growing badly and there is a spot in the forest near the mountain that is starting to mutate. The humans have started to call it the Forest of Death, Madara."

_Hashirama is a goddamn drama-queen_ , Madara thinks sourly.

"That's terrible," he offers honestly enough, "But I don't see what I have to do with it, Mito."

"That's simple," she replies, and there is that scary smile again. "I want you to search for Tobirama."

"What? Me?" Madara exclaims, stunned. "I'm not god of the hunt, or god of the lost, or god of mysteries or anything of that sort! I can't help!"

"No, that's true," Mito admits. She huffs, looking annoyed – but not at him, thankfully. "Truthfully, I do not expect you to find much. I simply believe that Hashirama may be quieted a bit, if he knew his best friend was out searching and helping. I would help search myself but…"

"You're needed at his side, else he might do something stupidly drastic and drastically stupid," Madara guesses wryly.

"Exactly," Mito agrees with a wry smile of her own.

That… Is quite the problem. Madara looks away, and through his window – this time, not to jump through it, but simply to watch something else than his tea-cup or Mito's face.

"What about Touka?" He asks. As much as he dislikes the woman, he has to admit that she'd be a better choice than him. She  _was_  the holder of the title Goddess of the Hunt before Tsume was born, after all.

"She's busy," Mito says, and it looks like she doesn't like it at all. "Some mortal war started a few months ago, in the southern realm. She has gone to oversee it."

Of course she has. It's her duty as goddess of war, fights and weapons. She's probably having the time of her life too. Madara is a bit jealous.

Unfortunately, Touka being away means that outside of Mito… There's no one left around that knows how to comfort or keep Hashirama in line. Damn it.

Madara sighs. If Tobirama were here, he could slap his brother over the head and tell him to get it together and stop making everything more complicated than it already is. But Tobirama isn't there.

Which is actually worrying for a whole other reason. Without the god of the sea, and of water, and of everything Tobirama is god of… Who is controlling everything? If Tobirama is good for something, it's that he always keeps everything that falls under his name controlled and organized. He's probably one of the gods that have the least problems keeping on top of the paperwork.

So, with him gone… That's a lot of things that are going to get really problematic soon. If they haven't already.

"Who is taking charge of what Tobirama usually does while he's gone?" Madara asks Mito, suddenly feeling very worried.

"We've split the tasks between those that could, with a bit of hoop-jumping, take charge of it temporarily," she answers. "Nagato was given the rain. He's working with your brother and Minato for everything weather-related. He's doing a good job, all things considered, if a bit too enthusiastic, so we're thinking of giving him the title of God of Rain for good." She adds. "Fortunately, everything that has to do with rivers, seas and all that lives in bodies of water was already mostly delegated by the time we started to worry about it. Tobirama apparently trusts the minor gods and spirits that live in his domain to make it work when he leaves, so it should be fine."

"Always been too organized," Madara mutters – but really, he's glad to hear it. Everything  _isn't_  going to collapse on itself soon. That's good. He sighs, and looks at the goddess in front of him. "I suppose I can go look. There are a few places in the mortal realm that Tsume might not have searched, or been able to access."

Mito seems to sag in relief in front of him, before gathering herself again and straightening. She gives him a thin smile.

"Thank you, Madara," she says, "I'll tell Hashirama. Hopefully, it'll comfort him some."

 

 

 

 

A bit too enthusiastic was apparently an understatement, where Nagato's ability to make it rain is concerned, Madara thinks sourly. It's possible that he doesn't have the hang of the whole scope of his newly given powers yet, but Madara doubts it. Nagato was born of the Uzumaki branch of the gods. Uzumaki are  _always_  extra.

And of course, since Madara isn't in the god realm he can't influence the weather as much as he would like. It's been grey and rainy for days, now, and with Hashirama in a mood it's coupled with dying plants everywhere. It makes for a very poor scenery.

The mortals have started to give a name to the phenomenon, seemingly believing it to be a new season – one that would ease the transition between summer and winter. Autumn some are calling it. Or Fall. That's just stupid, but whatever makes them feel better about Hashirama's tantrum, Madara guesses.

Fortunately for Madara's mood, it seems there is a balance in his luck.

"Who are you again?" He asks dryly of the minor god that has all but curled himself around him, seeking warmth.

"Orochimaru," the minor god says, his voice a sibilant hiss.

Ah. The god of snakes. That explains why he's being very cuddly right now, despite being rumoured to be a right bastard most of the time. The colder weather must not agree with him, and Madara  _is_  the god of fire. He's warm.

Madara tries to remember the other titles the god holds. He's pretty sure Hashirama's daughter, Tsunade, mentioned Orochimaru once or twice. An old friend of hers. He's the god of cunning, deceit and truth, if he recalls correctly, and…

"You're the god of information," he suddenly recalls, hope sparking in his heart.

"I am," Orochimaru agrees carefully, lifting his head just enough to gaze at him with golden eyes. "Why, do you seek knowledge?"

"I'm searching for Tobirama, god of the seas and of water," and of a hundred more things, that he has no time to list. And frankly doesn't recall. "Do you know where he might be?"

Orochimaru startles, eyes widening.

"You seek the god of research and knowledge?" Orochimaru asks, almost eager.

"I do," Madara agrees cautiously. He had forgotten Tobirama had those titles. "Why, do you know where he is?"

"I do," Orochimaru says, smirking slyly – and doesn't say another word.

Of course.

"What do you want in return for the information?" Madara asks, wary.

"Well, I usually would give it to you in thanks for warming me up," Orochimaru says, "But I admit I've always wanted to meet Tobirama. Unfortunately, I never could – he's always in cold places, you see. But if you were to carry me… I could guide you."

Madara narrows his eyes at the insolent minor god. He wanted him to be not only his pack mule but his portable heater? Brat.

Unfortunately, it seems like his best chance.

"You can shift into something less… cumbersome, right?" He asks sourly.

As an answer, the god immediately shifts into a white snake, barely three feet tall, that wraps itself around Madara's neck like a scarf of scales. Madara huffs, but leaves him there. As uncomfortable as he is with deadly things near his neck, it is the easiest solution.

"So," he asks the snake, not hiding his annoyance. "Where is he?"

"Danzo kidnapped him," Orochimaru replies promptly, and it sounds like he is smirking despite his reptilian form. "They are both in the underworld, now."

Madara freezes.

Danzo, the god of death, ruler of the underworld and all around creep kidnapped Tobirama?! While it explains the really convenient war that broke out a few months back in the southern part of the realm and distracted Touka, it also means that to find Tobirama, Madara needs to  _go there_.

In the underworld.

That wasn't part of the deal.

For a beat, he considers simply going back to the godly realm and telling Mito and Hashirama of his discovery. Surely, they could send someone else. A hero, even – a mortal champion on a quest. They would like that, right?

Right. And Mito might also kill him on the spot. Hashirama is the god of  _life_. He doesn't deal well with the underworld. Not only would he try to ask for a second chance for everybody, which would be a disaster, but he would get sick – and yet he might try to go there anyway to get his brother himself, like an idiot.

Not to mention that it might be a ploy to lure him out.

Danzo has always rubbed him the wrong way. Too greedy. Who knows what his plans are.

Hashirama, the hopeful fool, probably wouldn't suspect foul play.

Damn it. Madara has to go, doesn't he?

Grumbling, he sets off, ignoring the hissing laugh coming from his collar. Mito'd better be grateful for his sacrifice.

 

 

 

 

When Madara and his 'guide' finally reach the gates of the underworld, both of them are exhausted and more than a little annoyed. Sure, the way to the underworld  _isn't_  supposed to be easy to find, nor easy to cross, for anyone living. But still!

Madara is one of the major gods, and Orochimaru is – although Madara will never admit this aloud for fear of adding to the snake's ego – one of the most cunning and resourceful minor gods he has ever met. Together, it should have been a walk in the park.

Yeah.

A park designed by a moping and angry Hashirama, maybe. With all the death traps that come with it.

Needless to say, Madara has seen better days.

Madara eyes the gates warily. They are huge, towering far higher than any titan he has ever met, and he doubts he could open them on his own. He's not even sure he could  _touch_  them.

If they get stuck at this point, after the whole mess that was  _getting there_ , Madara is going to do something that he won't regret as much as he should.

"I swear," Madara hisses, "If we can't get in, I'm going to burn the whole place down."

"At this point, I wouldn't complain much," Orochimaru agrees viciously. The cold weather and the sharp coolness of the underworld is clearly getting to him, despite the constant skin contact with Madara. Not that Madara can't relate - there's a chill to this place that sinks straight into bones and stays there.

"Please don't," a new voice interjects blandly.

Both Madara and Orochimaru whip around to stare at the newcomer. The boy, with bone white hair and red dots on his forehead, doesn't seem too bothered with their hostile glances, Orochimaru's fangs, or the weapons that have materialized in Madara's hands.

"Who are you?" Madara demands.

"Kimimaro," the boy says, voice perfectly flat. "Minor god of bones and diseases. Gate-keeper of the underworld."

"Oh?" Orochimaru hisses, sounding delighted at what seems to be news to him. "Are you new, perhaps? As far as I know, those titles are supposed to be held by the god of death, Danzo."

"Danzo-sama had an… unfortunate incident," another voice comments, sounding slyly amused. Madara whirls around again, to find another clear-haired youth – although this boy's hair is more silver than white. The boy nods his head, still smirking, "Kabuto, minor god of autopsies, identities and medicine. Gate-keeper of the underworld as well."

Madara keeps narrowed eyes on him, but eventually nods back warily.

"Madara, god of fire, heat, sunny days and all that," he says, and doesn't expand on his titles. He doesn't have either the time or the patience. He gestures to Orochimaru, "This is Orochimaru, god of snakes, information and other things."

" _Other things_ ," Orochimaru mutters, derisively.

"You said something about Danzo?" Madara asks, ignoring his companion. "What happened?"

"He kidnapped the god of the seas, and of water," Kabuto replies, with acute amusement. Madara very carefully doesn't react. Kabuto, unaware that he's threading a sensitive topic, goes on, "Didn't think it through, either. There was some big fight near the River of Death, and Danzo lost. Tobirama-sama dumped him in the river. Apparently, being god of death doesn't mean you are immortal."

Well that's convenient. Less convenient is that fact that it means Danzo is  _dead_. And Danzo dead means there's a whole plethora of titles to be distributed.

He eyes the two gate-keepers. It seems that  _some_  titles were already given out, though. Kimimaro and Kabuto both weren't in the register, and Orochimaru apparently seems to think they are both very new.

The thing is – only a major god can distribute titles and make minor gods like that. Especially out of virtual nobodies like  _gatekeepers_. Likely half-bloods at most, and Madara would wonder about their parentage if he didn't have much more important to worry about. Namely, the major god giving out titles.

It can only mean one thing.

"Tobirama was the one to give you the titles?" He asks, more for confirmation than real doubt.

"Yes," Kimimaro is the one to confirm. He gives a very little, faint smile, "Tobirama-sama is a far better ruler than Danzo-sama ever was."

"Ruler?" Madara echoes, blinking.

"Ruler," another voice, this one distantly familiar, agrees.

This is becoming a pattern. Madara tenses, turning to the gates. They are opening, silent as shadows, and beyond them, a man walks the path towards them.

For one single second, Madara doesn't recognize him.

Tobirama has forgone the traditional coral crown of his position for a headdress made of bones and sea-shells. It frames his face down to his jaw, attracts attention to the blood red lines sliced into his cheeks and chin. His seal skin is gone from his shoulders as well – instead, there's a soft looking fur, stark white against the darker clothes he's wearing.

Madara swallows, and keeps his gaze from following the line of his neck. That black high-collar that just seems to espouse Tobirama's throat makes it difficult, but he manages.

Madara really doesn't recall Tobirama ever being this attractive. Sure, he never put any effort in spending more time than he had to in the vicinity of the man but he thinks he would have  _remembered_  cheekbones that sharp.

Maybe it's the spirit lights, flickering high above them, casting convenient shadows.

Yes, that must be it.

Licking his suddenly very dry lips, Madara clears his throat and looks Tobirama in the eye.

"Tobirama," he greets, "Have you lost your usual attire?"

"Not quite," Tobirama says, briskly, "As I'm the new god of the dead, I thought a change would be wise, so as not to confuse." Sharp red eyes assess him. "So, Madara. And…" He trails off, looking at the snake around Madara's neck. Arches a brow. "You are aware this is not a real snake, of course?"

Madara splutters, offense surging. Before he can retort angrily that he's not a  _moron_ , Orochimaru lets himself fall from his shoulders and to the ground. A second later, his lithe human form is standing in front of them, smirking.

"I was his guide to come here," Orochimaru reveals. Bows his head a little, which is far more deference and respect that Madara has seen him sow  _anyone_  before, and introduces, "Orochimaru, god of snakes, cunning, deceit and truths, poisons and information. It truly is an honour to meet the god of research and knowledge in person."

"Oh?" Tobirama says. He looks intrigued. "Most people do not think of those titles when they think of me."

"It is a great travesty," Orochimaru says, and he looks almost  _fervent_. "You  _are_  also the gods of innovations, and the world would hardly be as advanced as it is without your influence! I have read many tomes of your writings, and I must say, I can see why you would be given those titles. You have, excuse my forwardness, the most brilliant mind I've encountered to this day!"

"Oh," Tobirama says. There's a strange expression on his face. It might be pleased surprise. It might also be the spirit lights playing tricks on Madara's mind again. "A fellow scholar, then, I take it?"

"Yes," Orochimaru says, nodding, "It's why I came here. I wished to meet you, and perhaps, if you would humour a lowly god as myself, talk about some of your research…"

He trails off hopefully. Tobirama, for half a second, looks as though he's going to say yes. Then his expression goes chagrined.

"I'm afraid I'm quite busy currently," he says. Seeing Orochimaru's face close off, he adds, "But of course, you are welcome to stay as a guest." He gestures to Kabuto and Kimimaro. "Those two promising young men are quite clever. I should say you might find their company enjoyable, while I fix the mess my predecessor left. It should not take all that long anymore, and then we will have all the time in the world to talk, if you still wish to do so."

Immediately, Orochimaru lightens up again. He bows respectfully.

"I would be honoured," he says.

"The pleasure would be mine, trust me," Tobirama tells him dryly. "You would not believe how hard it is to get some intelligent conversation these days."

"The dead talk little," Kabuto chimes in, sounding rather amused.

"There's that," Tobirama agrees, sending the young man a wry look. "Please find our guest a room, Kabuto. If you wish to show him your lab in the meantime, you are free to do so as well."

Kabuto brightens, and Orochimaru looks intrigued by the suggestion. He bids Tobirama a quiet goodbye, and then goes to the silver-haired gate-keeper. Madara tries not to be offended by the fact that  _he_  warrants nothing more than a distracted wave.

Although, given that he's pretty sure he hears Kabuto start talking about medicine being poisons in a way in a truly fanatical voice, while Orochimaru looks suddenly very much interested… Madara decides it's no true loss.

Creepy guy.

He turns back to Tobirama, only to find the man already walking back to the gates.

"Hey, wait up!" He calls, and jogs to catch up with him.

"Yes?" Tobirama says, giving him an impatient look over his shoulder. "Did you want something else, Madara?"

" _I_  didn't come here to sing your praises," Madara tells him irritably. "Mito sent me."

_That_  fortunately gets Tobirama to pause. He frowns.

"Mito?" He says, sounding confused for a beat before his expression flattens. "Ah. I missed the summer dinner, didn't I."

"Since you were kidnapped, I'd say you have an excuse," Madara tells him dryly. "Hashirama, though, is moping. He's convinced you disappeared and will never return. Every plant on the surface is starting to die."

"Hashirama is a theatrical buffoon," Tobirama snorts. "You can go tell him that I'm fine and that I'm busy."

Madara scowls.

"I was tasked to bring you back," he says.

"Yes, well, I have much better things to do than go soothe my brother's delicate sensibilities," Tobirama tells him. "I have a kingdom to rule, since my former student died and left his titles to me."

"You mean since you  _overthrew_  him," Madara says.

Or, if Kabuto is to be believed, literally threw him in the river of death.

Tobirama makes a dismissive gesture, as though this is just a detail.

"Danzo was delusional, and was making a mess of things anyway," he says. He shakes his head. "He learned all the wrong things from me. And now, someone  _has_  to fix my mistakes."

"What about the oceans?" Madara asks, frowning. "You can't rule over two domains."

"I have full confidence in those I left in charge," Tobirama waves his protest away. "There were measures in place in case something like this ever happened. We may be gods, but we are in no way eternal. Besides," he looks to the domain beyond, a shape growing in the ghost mist at the end of the path, all shadows and spirit fire and eerie beauty. "I believe a change of scenery is doing me good. I was getting bored of the oceans."

Madara almost gapes at him. He's staying there for the  _view_?

He imagines going back to Mito and Hashirama, and telling them that Tobirama decided to stay in the underworld because he got bored. Winces.

That is  _not_  going to go over well. With either of them.

Madara opens his mouth, intending to try and convince Tobirama to at least go back for a few days to reassure his brother, and thus calm Mito down.

At the exact same moment, a faceless spirit with bottomless holes for eyes appears and bows down lowly.

"A dispute, lord Tobirama," the shadow whispers without a mouth, "In the waiting hall."

"Of course," Tobirama says, and it's annoyed. He adds, making an effort to make his tone more polite to the messenger, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

The spirit bows again and fades away without a trace. The moment the messenger is gone, Tobirama looks to the spirit-lights high above, as if asking for strength. Then, without even waiting to ask for permission, he grabs Madara's arm.

A flash of bright yellow light, and everything blurs.

 

 

 

 

Madara is still dazed when the door to Tobirama's private quarters close behind them.

"As you can see," Tobirama says, discarding his crown in an almost careless gesture on a desk in the corner of the room, "There is a lot to be done still. The sea realms were never this unruly."

"They didn't seem very  _unruly_ , back there," Madara points out, and hopes it comes out steadier than he's actually feeling.

Tobirama turns to give him a look, as though wondering if he's joking. Madara stares back, stubbornly.

He's telling the truth. He had never seen a hall so large as the underworld's waiting hall, and had never seen so many spirits either. There had to be thousands of ghosts and undead and manifestations in there, of all shapes and size, some of them twice as big as the largest giant Madara has ever seen. Some of them with  _teeth_  the size of the largest giant Madara has ever seen.

And yet, everyone had fallen utterly still and silent in both respect and fear when Tobirama had strode in, even the most unnerving shadows.

Seeing that, seeing a man have so much power, so much  _control_  over a crowd that Madara wouldn't even dare look at the wrong way…

He still has chills. And not the bad sort that the underworld causes.

Tobirama must figure out that he's being honest, because his expression turns considering for a flash instead of irritated. He eventually turns away, making quick work of discarding his armour and weapons.

It leaves him in barely a dark robe and his eternal fur collar, makes him look positively undressed and yet still regal, and leaves Madara's throat a bit dry in turn.

"Maybe not," Tobirama allows as he puts on a belt with a dagger, not stupid enough to go visibly unarmed even in his own domain, "But they only are so docile  _because_  I respond so quickly to every hint of trouble. If I was to leave, even for a few days, there is no doubt everything would fall apart."

"Really?" Madara says. Admits awkwardly, "It's difficult to imagine. Everything seemed to work so seamlessly, to be so well organized…"

"Ah," Tobirama turns to look at him, and there's a slight quirk to his lips, "While I'm flattered you hold such faith in the organization I've put in place, it's far from perfect or steady enough. It's been in place only for a few months, after all."

Madara blinks.

"You mean you changed everything?" He wonders.

"I did say Danzo left a mess," Tobirama says. "He ruled mostly by fear, and little else. His rule was, frankly put, a disaster. The spirits and more permanent inhabitants won't be forgetting that just yet, and that means I can't show the slightest hint of perceived weakness or fault. I need to prove myself as a more dependable ruler, if perhaps not a perfect one. And that is going to need work. Work, and time."

That  _does_  sound like a task that won't resolve itself anytime soon.

Madara gets it, he really does – he can't imagine what would happen if all those ghosts and shadows decided to riot and Tobirama wasn't there to contain it.

But that means that Tobirama is virtually stuck here for several months still. Probably even 'til the start of the next summer. Or the winter after that, in fact.

Madara can't, in good conscience, drag Tobirama out of the underworld. Not when so much depends on him, and when it so clearly matters to him as well.

Except if he doesn't, that means he has to go back to the gods' realm, and tell Mito and Hashirama that Tobirama is going to stay in the underworld for maybe another year.

Tobirama interrupts a very vivid image of Mito mounting his head to her wall as a warning to anyone stupid enough to cross her.

"I suppose I should thank you, though," he says, making Madara startle.

"Thank me?" Madara says, confused.

He can't imagine what he did that could in anyway help Tobirama. At all. If anything, he probably just is the bearer of bad news and indecision.

Tobirama gives him a small smile that softens his face a lot. Madara's heart does a little flip in his chest at the sight.

_Oh no_ , he thinks, and hopes he isn't looking as flustered as he feels.

"You came all this way to help me when you thought I was kidnapped, didn't you?" Tobirama points out.

"You clearly didn't need my help or anyone else's," Madara says wryly.

Nope. Tobirama did his own saving, overthrew the god of death, staged a rebellion, and started ruling the underworld with an iron fist. All while everyone else was just running around like headless chickens in the living world with no clue of what was even happening.

_Probably looked fabulous while doing it too._ A treacherous little voice in Madara's head adds, like he needs any more encouragements.

"Still, the intent counts for something," Tobirama says, thankfully interrupting his thoughts again, "Besides, you brought Orochimaru with you. He's the god of many useful things. I believe he might make my workload lighter. So thank you."

"Oh," Madara says, and okay, he supposes he helped  _that_. Orochimaru certainly wouldn't have slithered far without him. "You're welcome, I guess."

It also is good news. It means that Tobirama might only take nine months, instead of twelve, to secure and cement his position enough to be able to leave.

Mito is still going to make herself a new carpet out of his hide.

Unless he just sends the news via letter, and finds the best hole to hide in in the meantime?

_She would just send Tsume or Touka after me_ , Madara grimaces.

Really, the only reason those two didn't find Tobirama was because he wasn't in the gods or mortal realms- Oh. Oh!

"Do you maybe need more help?" Madara blurts out, and doesn't even pretend it's not a little bit desperate. "I'm the god of fire, surely I can do  _something_?"

Tobirama sends him a surprised look, then a suspicious one.

"Aren't you the god of sunny days?" He asks, sounding unconvinced. "The underworld is probably the furthest thing from the sun, you know. That can't be pleasant."

"Trust me, as long as you're gone, Hashirama is going to keep moping, and Nagato is making it rain with gleeful abandon, so I'm not going to see the sun anyway unless I go back to my domain," Madara says. He adds, reluctantly, "And Mito will find me there."

"Ah," Tobirama says, and it sounds way too amused. Madara shoots him a glare, and Tobirama raises a hand to hide what is  _definitely_  a smirk. "Yes, she wouldn't be happy to hear you failed in bringing me back to calm Anija down, would she."

"No, she  _wouldn't_ ," Madara hisses. Tobirama's shoulders start shaking, and Madara growls, "Stop laughing, damn it! Or I'll tell her exactly how to come and get you herself!"

That gets him to stop laughing. Or at least, to get a bit more control over his amusement. Mito is no negligible threat, after all.

"Please don't," Tobirama says, but it still sounds amused. "There's enough room in this domain for you to stay." He pauses, his expression turning considering. "Besides, you  _could_  prove helpful with the spirit fires. And maybe the heating system."

"What heating system?" Madara asks, dry as a dune. He's the god of heat and he's been feeling almost cold since he put foot in the underworld!

"Exactly," Tobirama agrees wryly. "As you can guess, I need help with that."

Warm the place up, manage spirit fires… Madara nods thoughtfully. He could do that. He could even try to brighten the place a bit. Tobirama is right – there's no sunlight here. But there's no one saying he can't make his own, or at least something similar. He's sure he's not the only one who misses the sun here.

"Help me write a letter to Mito and Hashirama explaining that you are fine and that you'll visit them in a few months at most," Madara tells Tobirama seriously, "And I'll stay here to help you."

Tobirama looks like he wants to say something, but closes his mouth. Finally, he tips his head.

"As you wish," he agrees. "Would you rather have a room here, or at the gates?"

Staying with Orochimaru and the two creepy gatekeepers would make Madara crazy and homicidal way faster than any lack of sun ever could.

"Here," he says with a decisive nod. He might have said that a bit too fast, though, because Tobirama arches a brow at him. Such an irritating and condescending habit should not be that attractive. Clearing his throat, he gives the first excuse that comes to mind, "The view is better here, right?"

Thankfully, Tobirama doesn't call him out on his stupidity. Instead, he inclines his head, lips twitching slightly.

"It is," he agrees. "Should I give you a tour? See the sights?"

"Sure," Madara blurts out, like the moron he has apparently turned into. "I love sights." Flushes, when he realizes what he just said, and flails, pointing a finger accusingly. " _You'_ re a sight!"

Tobirama's second eyebrows joins the first high, and Madara wishes futilely that his powers over fire would let him combust spontaneously. To think he used to make fun of his brother's inability to talk to a pretty face without making a fool of himself. It seems it's contagious.

_Izuna_ , Madara decides immediately and frantically,  _can never know._

"Kill me now," he mutters.

"That would be a little drastic, don't you think?" Tobirama says, and damn him, he sounds way too amused by Madara's flailing. "Besides, if I did that, you would still be stuck here."

Oh right. Underworld. Even death can't save him now.

A hand materializes in front of him, and Madara looks up to see Tobirama looking expectantly at him.

"Well?" The new god of death says, "I thought you wanted a tour?"

"Uh, yes, right," Madara nods dumbly.

Tobirama huffs when he still doesn't move, and grabs his arm, steering him towards the door effortlessly. Fuck, but he's strong.

"Huh," Tobirama says, looking at him. "You  _are_  very hot."

Madara makes an inarticulate noise at that, staring wide-eyed at Tobirama. The white-haired god rolls his eyes.

"I meant temperature-wise," he says, and ah, well. Right. Of course, because he's apparently out to kill Madara and get him forever stuck here, he adds loftily, "Not that you aren't handsome enough."

Madara may still find a way to spontaneously combust.

Tobirama seems to find the high-pitched noise he makes amusing, because he lets out a small chuckle.

"Don't die on me," he warns, "How am I supposed to invite you for dinner, if you're a ghost?"

Madara stares at him.

"Dinner?" He asks, stupidly.

Tobirama simply stares back, with ' _well duh, obviously_ ' expression on his face. Which, again, should not be so attractive.

A part of his brain, the part that hasn't crashed the moment Tobirama smirked at him for the very first time, niggles at his mind. There's  _something_  about food eaten in the underworld that he should be remembering.

"Unless you don't want to," Tobirama says, looking perfectly accepting.

"No, no, dinner sounds great," Madara agrees very quickly.

Tobirama smiles, looking pleased, and whatever thought Madara's mind was chasing gets lost in the following ' _Holy shit, that man is gorgeous'_  mental flailing.

Oh well.

It probably wasn't anything important anyway.

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> And so Madara gets stuck every winter in the underworld like an idiot.  
> Yes, you guessed it, this is totally my take on the Hades and Persephone myth. Except, you know. Tobirama is both Persephone and Hades. And they're not actual greek gods, or following the same scheme and titles, because that's _boring._  
>  Leave a comment on your way out!  
> Cheers!


End file.
